


Fire

by OkamiShadou98



Series: Lucifer One-shots [13]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe doesn't want him to die, Fire, Humor, Kinda Crack, Lucifer displaying abysmal survival skills, Protective Chloe, hint of comfort, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:29:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkamiShadou98/pseuds/OkamiShadou98
Summary: A request fic where Lucifer accidentally sets the penthouse on fire. Way lighter than it sounds.
Series: Lucifer One-shots [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673098
Comments: 57
Kudos: 168





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SereneHighness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneHighness/gifts).



> First off, this is not hyper realistic. I come from a family of fire fighters so I know some stuff doesn't make sense. That being said, a naked bulb CAN cause a fire and I highly suggest, even if they are LEDs, to keep them well away from curtains, wires, and anything else flammable.
> 
> I just wanted to write this as a joke and then it ended up 1.4k so I'm posting it. Horrendously unbeta'd.
> 
> I hope you like it, it's hardly my best work.

Lucifer knew many things. Quantum physics. The location of every bar in Italy. How to make the best grilled cheese. But fire, specifically the flammability of most objects, eluded him.

It wasn’t his fault per se, in Hell everything was carved of stone and rock. Hell Loops were an illusion, and he was their ruler. He could slow bullets, drain oceans, and, most importantly, wield fire. So when he placed a new lamp two inches from the curtains in his penthouse, he didn’t think anything of it.

And at first, this assumption was more than reasonable. Nothing caught on fire, at least. But then came the day where the breeze creeping from the opened doors on the balcony was especially fierce. It caught the curtain, billowing the lightweight fabric and settling it on the lit lamp like the malicious breath of a monstrous beast.

Lucifer wasn’t aware that the universe was trying to undermine him. He was more interested in the new wine bottles he’d recently received. Taste testing was an important part of his role as the owner of a night club and he never sold a product unless it carried his personal endorsement. The ashtray by his elbow was bursting with butts, the acrid scent of smoke pervading the air around the bar. Which was perhaps why he failed to notice the burning smell wafting from the opposite end of the room. The crackle of the first flame was, similarly, hidden by the sound of him popping open another bottle.

The fire spread in lazy bursts, expanding and encompassing as it crept up the curtains, dripped to the floor and desk. The yellow flicker reflected in the bottles behind the bar, sparkles of gold in the amber liquids. 

And it was this that finally caught Lucifer’s attention - as did the heat against his back. Spinning on his bar stool, he stared at the opposite end of the room, which was well on its way to being engulfed.

“That’s… not good,” he said to himself, pulling out his phone slowly and dialing a number.

“Hello?” a voice answered after a few rings.

“Detective? It’s Lucifer. I have an important question for you.”

“Do you know what time it is?” she asked irritably. “Fine, now that you’ve woken me up, I might as well find out, what is it you wanted to ask at… one in the morning?”

“Well there seems to be a fire in the penthouse and I don’t own a fire extinguisher. I can’t control regular fire, you know, just the Hell kind.”

There was a sharp crackle on the line. “The penthouse is _on fire_? Where are you?”

“In the penthouse, staring at it. I’m a bit surprised at how fast it’s spreading. But so long as it stays away from the piano-”

“LUCIFER, GET OUT!” she screamed.

He jerked the phone away from his ear. “No need to shout,” he grumbled, sliding to his feet.

“I’m calling the fire department. There’s a station right by you. Get out now. Don’t try to save any personal belongings!” Chloe said frantically. There was a clatter on her end and the slamming of doors. “I’m on my way.”

“Right. Good night, Detective.” He hung up.

Well, he couldn’t just let his belongings burn. He wouldn’t die from something as simple as fire, after all. He just needed some water, right? Water put out fires. There was a small sink beneath the bar but that wouldn’t do. Oh, the jacuzzi.

Uncaring, he strode across the room, stepping through the fire gingerly. _He_ might not burn but he didn’t need to melt his shoes to his feet - they would be a real pain to scrape off his skin.

The jacuzzi was set in a custom hole in the balcony, meaning he couldn’t simply turn it over and dump the water. Instead, he yanked the plants out of a planter, dumping the soil and using it to scoop up water. Throwing the contents at the nearest set of flames, he was somewhat dismayed to find the fire only lessoned for a moment, redoubling its ferocity as it sprang back at him.

Okay, maybe he needed more? 

A few more gallons of water were thrown at the flames but it didn’t seem to be doing much, aside from making the tile floor very wet. How strange. It was never this hard in the movies.

The scream of sirens reached him and he looked over the edge of the balcony to see several fire trucks racing down the streets. Well, he’d tried. Best to leave the rest to the professionals.

Stepping over the flames again, he diverted to his bookcase, emptying the shelves closest to the fire and sending the books sliding across the floor to the relative safety of the elevator. Surely the fire would long be out before it reached so far.

Stepping into the elevator himself, he pressed the button for the lowest floor, idly reading the small sign saying explicitly to not take an elevator during an emergency. Well, this wasn’t an emergency, was it? An inconvenience, yes.

He reached the club level, striding out of the main entrance, nearly colliding with the pack of firemen headed inside. Weaving between them, he found himself a safe place on the sidewalk to stand, hands in his pockets. The lights were still flashing on the fire trucks, like strobe lights. It was a bit like a party, plenty of people milling around.

“That’s my club,” he said conversationally to the old woman beside him.

She gave him a stricken look. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“Yes, I suppose it is a waste. I rather liked those curtains.”

The woman blinked at him a few times and slid away.

By the time a familiar grey sedan skidded onto the scene, most of the excitement had died down. Lucifer, bored, brightened when he saw Chloe rushing to him, pajama shirt tucked into jeans and hair wild.

“Detective! You missed all the fun - OOF.” He was driven back several steps as she collided with him full force, pinning his arms to his side as she hugged him fiercely.

“Thank God you’re okay!” she said, voice muffled by his shirt.

He looked down at her bemused. “Of course I am, darling. I’m the Devil, remember?”

She drew back but didn’t release him. “I thought you were going to die! Why don’t you have a fire extinguisher? And why were you just watching the fire while you called me?” She smacked him in the back of the head.

“Oww,” he whined, with a look of mock hurt.

“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, but she still reached up and rubbed the soot from his face. “And a mess. How did you get so dirty?”

He was ninety percent sure if he told her the truth, she’d get angry again so he just shrugged and stood with her as the activity around them lost its frantic edge. Soon, a fireman appeared, face sweaty and a charred… thing in his grasp.

“You Lucifer Morningstar?” he asked, approaching them.

He inclined his head. “I am.”

“This is what started the fire.” He brandished the burned object. “It looks like someone let the curtains touch the naked halogen bulb from this lamp.”

That thing was his lamp? It was all crooked and broken looking. Hardly a designer piece anymore.

Chloe yanked at his elbow, drawing his attention. “How close did you have that lamp?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Two inches maybe?”

“And it never occurred to you that might be dangerous?”

“Honestly? No. I didn’t even know fabric could catch fire like that. But, duly noted now.”

Chloe appeared torn between wanting to lecture him and just being thankful he was okay. Finally, she groaned. “That’s just… you know what? I’m signing you up for every single safety lecture the department sponsors.”

“Aren’t those for children?”

“Yup. But I don’t see Trixie setting my house on fire,” she said sharply. “You’re going to all of them. Fire safety. Household poisons. Traffic safety. All of them. I’m not losing you because you have the survival instincts of a squirrel.”

He probably should’ve been more annoyed by her implication he was an idiot that needed to be coddled but only part of what she’d said had gotten through to him. “You don’t want to lose me?” he asked, grinning.

In response, she smacked his head again. “Shut. Up,” she advised.

And that was how Lucifer found himself two weeks later, sitting in a little plastic chair surrounded by children, and listening to a woman lecture them on why they needed to look both ways before crossing the street.

**Author's Note:**

> Literally, dare me to write a fanfic and I will. It's a problem.


End file.
